


What A Time

by TheGameIsOn_Geronimo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, It really does end happily I swear, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 17:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19137517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGameIsOn_Geronimo/pseuds/TheGameIsOn_Geronimo
Summary: Merlin and Arthur broke-up so Arthur could fulfil his role as heir to the throne. What a time they had, and what a time they could have again.(Based on the song What A Time by Julia Michaels).





	What A Time

**Author's Note:**

> My friend asked me to write a Merlin fic based on the song 'What A Time' by Julia Michaels (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPYefBD1Rzs)... When I finally got around to listening to the song this fic was frantically written in about a day which caused my eyes to ache a lot XD  
> I obviously don't own Merlin, or the song (where the fic title comes from).  
> Any mistakes are my own, and if you spot any feel free to point them out!  
> I hope you enjoy!

It’s hard – no, almost impossible in fact – to pretend that nothing happened. It’s hard to forget those secret meetings, those fleeting touches, those special smiles. Weirdly, it feels like the world should have stopped, should have jolted into a pause from such a monumental shift in a relationship that Merlin never thought would end. And yet it keeps turning. Life keeps pushing forwards, day after day after day, the same jobs, the same people, the same words. It isn’t fair, he thinks.

 

***

 

_They were sitting up on the castle parapets, the moon bathing their faces in pale light as they stared at the stars. Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder, and their hands were clasped between them. The warmth of each other soaked into their bones, and Merlin decided that he never wanted to be anywhere but here._

_Merlin had found Arthur sitting on the cold stone once he had tried to bring him dinner and found his chambers deserted. He had searched everywhere he could think of – the throne room, the armoury, the training grounds – and finally he had jogged up the spiralling staircase in the tallest tower until he could get to the battlements. He found the Prince in an alcove – their alcove – hidden from the view of any patrolling guards, and had sunk to the ground next to him, shoulders brushing, saying nothing to break the silence._

_It had been Arthur who had taken his hand, wrapping strong fingers around Merlin’s thin and pale palm. Merlin had squeezed his hand, a sign of companionship or support. The sun had been setting in the west, and orange light spread across them, making Arthur’s blonde hair look ablaze, framing his cheekbones in strokes of molten gold. It had been beautiful, and yet Arthur had turned his gaze away from the horizon and looked at Merlin, who thought he would never be able to capture Arthur’s attention away from such a show of nature’s beauty. His eyes glowed in the fading light, and Merlin felt his heart stutter in his chest._

_‘I’m scared, Merlin,’ Arthur had whispered into the growing darkness, ‘I’m scared I can’t lead my people properly.’_

_And Merlin had squeezed his hand again, and had smiled at him, a point of warmth in the growing chill, and said simply, ‘You can. I believe in you.’_

_It had been simple. Maybe not easy, but they had each other, and that was enough._

 

***

 

He does everything he used to. He delivers breakfast in the morning. He helps the knights train in the grounds. He mucks out the stables. He does laundry. He collects herbs for Gaius. He goes to bed. He gets up. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. His body keeps moving in the familiar routine, and yet he feels separated from it, distant. He feels like this can’t be real.

It can’t be real, because there are no jokes or stupid banter. There’s just stony silence and clipped sentences. It can’t be real, because there are no familiar touches. There’s just space between them, which might only be centimetres but feels like miles. It can’t be real, because there are no smiles. There’s just closed expressions, and pain. So much pain.

He tries to keep going. To force his face muscles into a grin, to sound enthusiastic as he opens the curtains to the new dawn, to keep breathing even when it feels like the air has been punched out of him. He wants to say to Arthur that it hurts, he wants to know Arthur feels it too, and then he wants Arthur to pull him close, to bury his face in his hair, and to tell him it will be okay.

 

***

 

_Arthur’s eyes were alight in mirth and they might have both been slightly drunk as they stumbled back to Arthur’s chambers after a feast to celebrate a successful harvest. Arthur was leaning heavily on Merlin, and Merlin was leaning heavily back onto him, an arm wrapped around his waist. They were laughing about something or nothing that neither of them were going to remember._

_They kicked open the doors to the bedroom, and closed it behind them, and it felt like they shut out the whole world with it. It felt like they were the only two people in the world, that they could stay in this moment forever._

_Arthur had pulled Merlin into the centre of the room, by the crackling fire, and had tugged Merlin close and then had swayed with him to some unheard tune. Merlin had grabbed his shoulders to keep himself steady, and then had wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck. His eyes had crinkled in adoration and amusement, and they’d danced like idiots for longer than they should have done when they had an early start in the morning. It felt like the night would never end. It felt like they were invincible._

_Merlin had giggled and pulled Arthur towards the bed when the Prince had started to flag, his eyelids dropping but a dopey smile still present on his face. He had pushed Arthur down, pulled off his boots and tugged off his shirt, and laid him down and tucked him in. He had been about to leave when Arthur’s hand had shot out and gripped his jacket hem with surprising strength for one right on the cusp of sleep. Merlin had turned back to him, and with his messy hair, rosy cheeks, and gleaming blue eyes, Merlin didn’t think he had ever seen anything so beautiful._

_‘I love you,’ was what Arthur had said that night, breathed into the air between them. Something to treasure, something to hide. And Merlin had smiled, bent down and kissed his forehead, and said, ‘I love you, too.’_

 

_***_

 

His friends must notice something is wrong, he’s not that good of an actor. Gwen watches him with wide, sad eyes, and gives him flowers to brighten up his room. Gaius spoons an extra scoop of stew into his bowl even though he has no appetite. The knights crack more jokes around him, bump his shoulders more often. Lancelot and Gwaine especially look at him with worry, and when they think he won’t notice, he can hear them talk about him in low voices.

No one knew. It was a secret they kept, buried close to their hearts, and yet now everyone knows that something is wrong. Before he delivered dinner to Arthur one evening, he heard murmured voices from the room, and could just make out Leon’s voice asking whether there was something ‘wrong’ with Merlin. Arthur’s reply of, ‘how should I know?’ cut sharply into his chest, and he pushed the door open, deposited the plate, and left as quickly as he possibly could. He had thought that what they had could last forever, and yet here they are – falling apart at the seams.

 

***

 

_It started in a way that wasn’t particularly exciting, or noteworthy, and yet it meant everything._

_They had been on a hunt, just the two of them – a rarity for the Prince those days. They’d been joking all day, and even when they were supposed to be being quiet, Arthur had pushed up against him, knocking his shoulder, or leaning over with his chest pressed to Merlin’s back. It had made Merlin’s breath catch, made his head spin, and also filled him with longing and not a small amount of confusion. They’d been dancing around each other for months, and yet this felt different. Like they were on a precipice, ready to fall over it._

_They had sat around the campfire like they always did. It had been normal, quiet, ordinary. There was nothing to suggest that in that same evening the world was going to change, and that it would never be the same again. They would never be able to go back to this moment, and that was both exhilarating and heart-breaking. If they could go back and stop this moment, it would stop the pain, and yet they would lose all their time. Was that a price worth paying? Merlin wasn’t sure._

_Arthur had looked at him over the crackling flames, eyes dark and serious, and Merlin had watched him carefully, not quite sure what the look meant, fidgeting under the scrutiny. And then Arthur had asked him, ‘What would you do if your heart was telling you to do something, but your head knew it could never work?’_

_And Merlin’s breath had hitched slightly, as he thought of the magic that burned beneath his skin, as he thought of the lies spoken without hesitation to the people he trusted the most, as he thought of how he wanted to hold Arthur’s hand, and how he wanted to kiss him. ‘I’m not sure,’ he’d said that night, the words quiet, stuttered, unsure, ‘I wish I could say that the heart should always be followed, but I’m not sure that’s true.’_

_Arthur had stood up and moved to sit next to him. His eyes reflected the light from the fire and they bore into Merlin so intensely that he had to look way._

_‘Merlin.’ He’d said, in that voice he sometimes used. It was his name spoken with fondness, spoken with admiration, with amusement, with authority. Merlin was powerless to it, and he turned back to his Prince sitting next to him._

_‘Yes, Sire?’ He asked, throat dry._

_‘What would you do if your heart wanted to be with someone, but you knew it would be difficult?’_

_‘I would hope that who my heart wanted was worth the hardship.’_

_‘And if they were?’_

_They were close, leaning towards each other in the dark, breaths mingling, voices low and whispered. It was secret. It was sacred. These words they shared, they could never be forgotten, they could never be taken away._

_Merlin swallowed, and Arthur’s eyes dropped quickly to his lips, before meeting his gaze again._

_‘I would grab them by both hands, and never let them be taken away from me. No matter what.’_

_And Arthur had given him a small, almost sad smile, and he had repeated, ‘No matter what.’_

_And then Arthur had kissed him, and Merlin had fisted his hands into Arthur’s tunic to pull him closer, and they had been inseparable._

_When they had finally parted,  foreheads pressed together, panted breaths shared, Arthur had whispered a promise only for his ears, and Merlin had felt love fill him up so quickly that he thought he might burst._

_‘I’ll hold you forever, Merlin.’ Arthur had told him._

_What a lie that had been._

 

***

 

There’s a queasy feeling in his stomach, and his hands shake where they are clasped behind his back. He stands two steps behind his master, in his usual place, and their eyes track the line of princesses entering the thrown room with their fathers. It was time for Arthur to find a wife, and Merlin couldn’t decide whether it would be more embarrassing to throw up where he was standing, or to have to knock over everyone to run outside.

Arthur stands straight and tall, but there is a tension in his shoulders that Merlin wishes he could smooth out with his hands. But he isn’t allowed to touch anymore, and instead he digs his nails into his palms. Arthur greets each lady with courteousness – a small bow, a kiss on the knuckles. The women smile at him with politeness, not like Merlin used to. He smiled at Arthur like he was the sun – needed to sustain his life, a source of heat and light, and also a source of burning agony.

Once they have all been introduced, Merlin leaves the room as quickly as duty lets him. He runs up the stairs of the tallest tower, breaking out into the fresh cool air. He sags against the stone wall, trying to remember how to breathe, trying to stop the stabbing pain in his chest. He wanders along the parapets, and finds the alcove hidden from view. Once they had sat their together, with no space between them, bodies pressed together from shoulder, to elbow, to hip, to thigh, to foot. Now, Merlin curls up in the dust, hugs his knees to his chest, and tries to stop himself from falling apart.

 

***

 

_It was in the dead of night when Merlin finally decided he had to be honest with Arthur. It was one of the rare times when Merlin had stayed in Arthur’s bed instead of going back to his room, and they were wrapped around each other, with the blankets pulled up to their chins. A secret oasis. Safe and calm._

_Merlin had trailed his fingers down Arthur’s arm, light and teasing and slow. Arthur had opened his eyes, gazing at Merlin in the darkness, but Merlin could barely make out his features in the dim light._

_‘I have something to tell you.’ He had said. The words barely audible, even in the silence._

_Arthur had blinked slowly at him, ‘What is it?’ he questioned, worry creeping into his voice._

_Merlin had continued the gentle stroke of his fingers, even while his heart pounded in his chest. He had ducked his head deeper into the pillow, and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the look of betrayal on Arthur’s face._

_He had choked out the admittance,  ‘I have magic.’ And there had been silence._

_Then Arthur had shifted, started moving away from him, and Merlin’s hands had gripped him, tried to keep him close as fear exploded through his chest, and he stammered out, ‘I only use if to protect you, Arthur. Only you. Please –‘_

_But his begging had been broken off by a hand coming to rest on his cheek, cupping his chin, and turning his face towards Arthur. And Arthur hadn’t moved away. He’d propped himself up on an elbow so he could see Merlin better, and his eyes weren’t full of hate. They were soft, and full of love, and Merlin wanted to melt under him._

_‘Merlin.’ Arthur said simply, cutting off his babbling as Arthur’s thumb traced over his cheekbones._

_‘Arthur.’ He responded stupidly, scared and tense and confused._

_‘I always knew there was something extraordinary about you.’ Arthur told him, and his lips had curled up into a smile._

_Merlin had blinked at him, surprise, relief, and confusion warring within him. ‘You’re not angry?’ he questioned._

_‘Not at you.’ Arthur had told him, ‘But I wish you’d told me. And it will take some time for me to come to terms with it.’_

_Merlin had said, ‘I’m sorry.’_

_And Arthur had lain back down, wrapping him in his arms, and holding on tightly._

_‘You don’t have to be. I promised you forever, remember?’_

_‘Forever.’ Merlin had repeated, his mind still whirling even as Arthur’s warmth, and his scent, and his calm heartbeat started to lull him into a feeling of utter relief and peace._

_It was minutes later, when they were both almost asleep, when Arthur had murmured tentatively across the pillow, ‘Can you show me?’_

_Merlin had pulled one arm up so it was between their faces, clicked his fingers, and a flame burst into life in his palm. It lit up their secret sanctuary, and lit up the look of wonder on Arthur’s face. Merlin had never seen so much love reflected in those deep eyes, and as the flame stuttered out, Arthur leant forwards, kissed each of his fingertips and his palm, and then he pressed their foreheads together. They feel asleep clinging to each other like they would never let go._

 

***

 

Merlin quietly wonders whether he would ever get over the constant stabbing pain in his heart. It hurt to see Arthur smile. It hurt to see him laugh at a story he didn’t tell. It hurt to see him turn into bed alone, and know that he wasn’t welcome to curl up next to him under the fluffy blankets.

It hurt even more to watch him courting the princesses. The way he would listen so attentively, the way he would take them on rides, the way he brushed their knuckles with his lips. Once upon a time he had been allowed to hold Arthur’s full attention. He had been allowed to brush his hands over Arthur’s bare skin. He had been allowed to tug Arthur in for a quick kiss, to run his fingers through his hair, to hold his hand. Now the distance between them seemed insurmountable, and Merlin just wants the pain to stop. He wants to forget, and yet he never wants to lose Arthur more than he already had. He wishes things could be different. He wishes things could be fixed. He wishes he could hold Arthur close again. He wishes he was the only one who could.

 

***

 

_It ended as many things do, with shouting, and harsh words, and ultimately cruel self-preservation. It was Arthur who mentioned it first, leaning against his desk with tension in every line of his body and wariness in his gaze._

_Merlin should have taken it as a warning, should have seen the signs and run as far and as fast as possible. Anything to not hear the words Arthur was going to speak. Anything to let things continue like normal. Anything to keep pretending. But he didn’t. He had stayed, and had his heart shattered because of it._

_‘My father wants me to get married.’ It was spoken as a statement of fact. Blunt and simple, and yet the words cut through Merlin’s flesh like a bladed weapon._

_‘Oh.’ He had said. What else could he say?_

_Arthur had nodded, as though he had made a decision, and had shrugged slightly. ‘I’ll need an heir at some point.’_

_Merlin had looked back down at the laundry he was folding into a basket. Somehow his hands no longer felt like his own. He felt untethered, drifting, floating. This couldn’t be real._

_‘Oh.’ He said again._

_Arthur had looked at him with large, serious eyes. His lips hadn’t trembled. His hands hadn’t shaken. He had looked strong in that moment. He had looked brave and determined, and Merlin hated him for it._

_‘This thing we have.’ He had said, as though it was nothing, as though it didn’t matter, ‘It has to stop.’_

_Merlin had felt numb. He had stared at Arthur for several pounding heartbeats, and then he’d asked, ‘Why?’ He hated how his voice croaked._

_Arthur had rolled his eyes, ‘Like I just said, Merlin, I need to get married, and I can’t be married while I’m having a relationship with my manservant!’_

_He hadn’t spoken Merlin’s name like he usually did. He hadn’t spoken it with the right reverence. Instead it was full of condescension and the slightest hint of annoyance, as though Merlin’s ignorance was a problem he shouldn’t have to deal with._

_It was that which made Merlin snap. It wasn’t the grief he had expected that crashed over him, it was anger than burst up within him, so strong and powerful that the silverware rattled on the room’s surfaces._

_‘It’s a secret!’ he exclaimed, voice rising without his consent, ‘No one knows! We could tell people and you could tell your father that you don’t need a wife! I thought you said you wanted only me!’_

_Arthur shifted into a fighting stance, pushing off the table, ‘A Prince and a servant, Merlin! It doesn’t make sense! It can’t work! People will never accept it! Least of all my father!’_

_His voice was rising to a shout too, and half of Merlin wanted to curl up in a ball and hide, and half of him wanted to lash out at the cruel words._

_‘But we love each other!’ He yelled, trying to make Arthur understand._

_‘No one will care about that!’_

_‘But- but-,’ The words had stuttered in Merlin’s throat, they tasted of bile and dust. ‘But this isn’t fair!’ It was a pathetic sentiment, and Merlin wanted to hate himself for sounding so plaintive, for not being able to think of anything better._

_Arthur took a hesitant step forwards, and Merlin had staggered back from him, ‘I know, Merlin.’ His eyes were sad now. ‘I’m sorry.’_

_‘No!’ Merlin shouted, raising a finger at him, ‘You don’t get to do this! You lied! You said it would be forever!’_

_Arthur’s slow steps faltered and a look of intense hurt flashed across his face, ‘I know.’ He had wrung his hands, looked almost pleading, ‘I thought it would be.’_

_Merlin had choked on a sob that forced its way up his throat, moving unsteadily backwards towards the door, ‘You arrogant pig!’ He’d yelled, and Arthur’s face had hardened._

_‘Hey! Don’t blame this on me! I can’t help what society expects of me!’_

_‘No! You can’t and I know that!’ Merlin had cried, feeling like he was falling apart, ‘But you could at least be brave enough to admit what you want and force society to get over it! You’re the bloody Prince! If you can’t do that then what hope do the rest of us have!’_

_Arthur’s face had twisted into a snarl, ‘You have no idea how hard this is for me!’_

_‘Hard for you? Hard for you!’ Merlin bellowed incredulously, ‘I’m the one that will be executed if I ever reveal who I really am! But you’re too much of a coward to admit who you love.’_

_‘Merlin –‘_

_‘NO! I’m sorry if I’m such an embarrassment to you! I’m sorry that I believed every lie you told me! I’m sorry if I trusted you with my heart! If you want me gone then fine! Here I go!’_

_And he had turned and stormed out of Arthur’s chambers, and sprinted down the different corridors and out into the forest, and had collapsed into the leaf litter, and had let himself break._

 

***

 

It starts again differently to how it started before. For unlike last time there are wounds to heal, and scars to patch up. It starts again with nervous looks, and stilted smiles, and Arthur looking like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. Merlin doesn’t really know what he is doing, and keeps Arthur at arms-length, keeps going through the motions. He tries to ignore how his heart skips a beat when Arthur tries to catch his gaze, tries to ignore how his breath catches when Arthur accidently brushes against him. He doesn’t want Arthur back, and yet he yearns for Arthur to come back with every fibre of his being.

It happens one afternoon, with the sunshine streaming in through the windows as Merlin scrubs the floors and Arthur works at his desk. They haven’t exchanged more than twenty words in a conversation for months and yet Merlin can feel Arthur’s eyes trained on him.

Again, it is Arthur who initiates it. He says, ‘The princesses have been sent home.’ And Merlin idly wonders why Arthur would think he is interested in this information.

He replies with a simple, ‘Okay,’ because it seems too rude to just ignore him, to leave the silence hanging over them.

‘I didn’t want any of them.’ Arthur sounds almost nervous, and Merlin sits up from where he is bent over the floor, and finally looks directly at Arthur, who’s staring straight back at him.

‘Okay.’ He says again. They haven’t looked at each other for so long in weeks, and Merlin wishes he could get closer, so he could see the flecks of grey in Arthur’s blue eyes, could see the tiny imperfections on his skin. ‘I suppose the next lot will be here soon though,’ he mutters bitterly.

‘I don’t want anyone else.’ Arthur says it with a flat voice, and yet his brows are creased slightly in concern. He looks like Merlin might bolt at any moment, and to be honest, Merlin thinks he might too given how his heart starts to beat faster.

‘What are you saying, Arthur?’ He sighs quietly.

Arthur stands up from his desk, and comes round until he is a few steps in front of Merlin, and Merlin scrambles to his feet so they’re at eye level.

‘I want you.’ Arthur says simply.

Merlin’s heart thuds. He can’t let this happen again. ‘You had that opportunity.’ His eyes flick to the door, then back to Arthur’s face. He looks sad. He looks hopeless.

‘I made a mistake, I’m sorry.’

‘I can’t forgive you.’ Merlin won’t hurt himself in that way again.

Arthur looks at him with pleading eyes. This is the first time Merlin has ever seen him look heartbroken. ‘Why not?’ his voice is small, shaky.

‘You broke me,’ Merlin chokes out. It can’t hurt to be honest at this point. There are tears gathering in his eyes.

‘I wish I could fix you.’ As he says it, Arthur’s hands flex at his sides, as though he wants to reach out and touch Merlin, pull him into his arms. Merlin is slightly worried that he would go willingly.

The tears overflow from his eyes, ‘You can’t.’ He wishes it could be different.

Arthur takes another step forward, and Merlin holds his ground. If they both reached out towards each other, they could touch each other’s fingers. He looks determined, and so sad, and dammit Merlin still loves him.

‘I promised you once that I would always hold you.’ Arthur tells him, ‘Why can’t I hold you while we fit the pieces of ourselves back together and let them mould and stick until you can barely see the scars?’ His eyes gleam with unshed tears too, and he’s pleading and begging.

‘You said forever,’ Merlin croaks. He can’t look into his eyes anymore, looks down to the floor instead, fiddles with his fingers.

‘I did.’

‘How can I trust you again?’

Arthur pauses, and when Merlin glances back up at him he’s biting his lip, choosing his next words with care.

‘Forever is a long time.’ Arthur points out, timidly, ‘Even if these wounds take a long time to mend, I’ll still be waiting for you.’

Merlin lips twitch into a small smile, possibly the first real one in weeks. Tears still stream down his cheeks, but warmth is suddenly starting to fill him up. ‘You’re an ass.’ He rasps.

Arthur’s lips quirk into a smile too, ‘I know.’

‘I still love you.’ Merlin cries, almost as though it’s an inconvenience he is frustrated by, and yet he knows deep inside that he could never be annoyed at being in love with Arthur.

Arthur’s smile grows into a grin. ‘I know that too.’ Merlin flaps an annoyed hand at him, frustrated at his own inarticulation.

‘I thought you loved me.’ He gets out, sounding small and broken.

Arthur’s smile fades and he looks so serious. Merlin wants to press his lips to the frown lines on his forehead. They look deeper than they were before.

‘I do.’ Arthur admits, and Merlin’s heart skips a beat.

He fixes Arthur with an angry look, ‘Even when it gets inconvenient?’ he snaps.

Arthur nods, ‘Even then.’ He pauses, considering, ‘Especially then. I don’t think I could ever stop loving you, Merlin.’ He says his name right this time.

Merlin chokes on a sob, ‘It’ll be hard.’ He says, a final attempt to stop this from happening even as adrenaline and magic thrums through his blood.

Arthurs steps forward again, his face is open and honest, and he moves until there is barely a foot between them. Merlin can feel his body heat warm the entire length of his front.

‘There’s nothing I’d rather fight for.’ It’s a truth that shines in Arthur’s eyes. It’s reflected in his brows pinched with regret, in his trembling hands. It punches the air out of Merlin’s lungs.

‘Okay.’ He breathes, knowing Arthur will hear it.

‘Okay?’ Arthur’s brows crease further into a frown, hope starting to overtake his expression.

‘I’ll give you another try.’ And Merlin musters a cheeky grin, even though he probably looks crazy with wet, red eyes and splotchy skin.

‘Really?’ Arthur says incredulously, but he’s starting to smile again as his eyes gleam.

It’s Merlin’s time to roll his eyes, ‘Yes, you clotpole. But you’ve got a lot of work to do.’

Arthur nods vigorously, ‘Okay,’ he says, looking a bit like he’s just accepted a challenge that he’s going to figure out even if it kills him. He doesn’t move any closer though, and Merlin raises his eyebrows expectantly.

When Arthur just gives him a confused, wild look, Merlin sighs again and huffs out a laugh, ‘Oh for god’s sake.’

Arthur looks at him disbelievingly, ‘What?!’ he exclaims.

Merlin reaches out, finally grabs his wrists and pulls him closer, ‘Kiss me, you idiot.’

‘Okay.’ And Arthur smiles, and leans into him and presses their lips together. It’s quick and soft and perfect. Arthur raises his hands and brushes the tears away from Merlin’s cheeks. Merlin feels like he could fall into his eyes. He feels like the luckiest man alive. He feels like he’s an idiot for falling in love with Arthur Pendragon. He feels like he couldn’t have stopped it even if he had tried.

He smiles at the man in front of him, and then asks, ‘How many kisses do you think we could fit into forever?’

Arthur looks at him likes he’s some miracle that he can’t believe he’s holding. He takes his hands and grips them tight as though he will never let him go again. Merlin despite himself, believes him.

‘I’m not sure.’ Arthur whispers cheekily into this little bubble of happiness that surrounds them.

Merlin muses for a moment, and then tells him, ‘Let’s start counting them now then.’ It’s another secret they’ll keep. A new one. Something to discover, and something to hold close. A secret only they will know.

‘Okay.’ Arthur agrees, leaning in and touching his lips to Merlin’s again before drawing back, ‘That’s one.’

Merlin smiles at him, bathes in his warmth, falls into his eyes. He can’t believe that he can touch again. That he can stand so close. That he can do anything he wants, and Arthur would be right there besides him. They are together. They are eternal.

He leans in to Arthur, runs a hand through his blonde hair, and kisses him again. ‘And that’s two.’

Arthur smiles against his lips, ‘And there’s plenty of time for more.’ He says.

‘Oh yes,’ Merlin says, ‘There’s forever.’


End file.
